The Chronicles of Dovahkiin: the rival
by tidicuses
Summary: a story about Davahkiin. read it. it'll be worth your time
1. Chapter 1

"HAIL DRAGON BORN!" The whole town of white run had exploded with joy.

"May the eight divine reward your heroism with a spot in the afterlife," one of the citizens declared. What the town didn't know was that the Breton they were praising so much had nothing to do with the dragon born. Truthfully he despised the dragon born, he had fooled the town into thinking HE was the dragon born. In reality he was his greatest enemy.

The dragon born had saved the town from the stormcloak invasion. But shortly afterwards was captured by some of the rebels and dragged off. No doubt he was busy leveling the camp but the Breton was using his disguise to make him appear as the Nord who did save the town so he could sabotage him. The moment a citizen came up you shake the Breton's hand he immediately attacked him. Knocking the poor fool out with a single punch.

The crowd silenced as a guard approached him. "Watch it dragon born. Not even you are above the law."

"I think I am," the Breton said as he drew his elven blade and ran it through the guard. The guard spit blood out of his mouth as he fell clutching the new hole in his gut. "Anyone else care to arrest me?"

As if on cue the entire force of the guards and the imperial legion unsheathed their weapons and charged. The Breton sheathed the sword and pulled a dwarven war hammer smashing the nearest legionnaire's skull. This was his way of sabotage. He would go on a bloody rampage and raise a bounty on the dragon born's head so high the guards would be forced to kill him on sight.

"LAWBREAKER!" One guard screeched as he swung his heavy battle axe. The Breton jumped out of the way placing the hammer back on his back and preparing a spell. He felt his magika flowing though his veins ice cold as the air around his left hand turned frosty. And in his right hand the magika exited his blood when the sparks started jumping from his fingertips.

The false dragon born sent a large spike of ice hurtling towards a guard and impaling him through the heat. The guard fell and hammered the spike through his back when he hit the ground. He then fired a stream of energy at another guard jolting his body and exploding his heart.

"YOU DEMON!" He heard a women shout. He turned and saw her bringing her child inside. He pulled a hunting bow and quickly sent a steel arrow through the women and into her child. The plan was working. By the time the true dragon born showed his face he would be killed. The Breton knew the dragon born wouldn't kill the guards. But they would certainly kill him. 

"REBER THIS DAY YOU FOOLS. I, DOVAHKIIN, HAVE SHOWED YOU MY TRUE REASON FOR HELPING YOU. NOW YOU WILL KNOW NOT TO TRUST STARNGERS!" the Breton ran off into the woods just as the disguise was wearing off. He had escaped and ruined his reutation in whiterun. He was back to his normal form and then the ground shook as he heard the one said he thought he would never hear again. Just three little words. _FUS, RO, _and _DAH._


	2. Chapter 2

He couldn't believe it. He was the dragon born. The most powerful mortal in skyrim, possible in all of tamrial. How could he be captured? By rebels? This was humiliating to saw the least. _IIS_, he used his shout to freeze three of the stormcloaks.

At least they were stupid enough to only restrain him using bonds. They had been tight but nothing a little fire magic couldn't handle. He may not be skilled in magic but he knew enough to burn through the bonds. Now he was destroying the foolish stormcloaks without so much of a sweat.

He knew he should hurray back to whiterun so after slaughtering all of his capturers he stole a horse and rode away. Nearly halfway back to whiterun he was brutally attacked by a gang of bandits. He had no time so he simply opened his mouth and formed the first shout he had ever learned. _FUS RO DAH_. The three bandits were sent flying. He then used another shout _OD AH VIING_. The furious beast swooped down and picked off each bandit.

"How can this be" the Breton was saying to himself. He had heard the distinctive shout _FUS, RO, _and_ DAH._ Then he saw the dragon sweep down and snag three bodies out of the air. The dragon born had broken free and rather quickly. This could be highly dangerous for him. He decided he needed to find some place to hide and quickly. He looked around and found an abandoned alchemy shack.

The Breton hid and took cover in a secluded little corner and waited. Just then he heard footsteps his breath caught sharply. He held his breath hoping whoever it was had not heard it.

The footsteps ceased, the door creaked and fell off of its hinges. The Breton shuffled further into the corner. The footsteps came back growing closer. Then they faded again. Suddenly _KRII LUN AUS. _His skin began glowing and he could literally feel his life force begin to ebb away. This was a painful experience to say the least and the Breton jumped in pain, locking eyes with the nord he hated and feared so much. The one eye blinded by the scar crossing over it, barely visible through the war pain the covered the majority of his visible body through his dragon scaled armor. This needless to say was little.

The dragon born saw the Breton stormcloak he hated more than any other. He knew he had tucked into the corner for his vampire powers were more than useful to find people. And now that he had found him the fight was on. He would finally repay the scrawny Breton. For the scar that had blinded him in his left eye.


End file.
